A Kiss on the Cheek
by Believe4Ever
Summary: After a strange dream, Italy remembers a promise he'd made to an old friend a long time ago.


**I would like to say thank you to my beta Marie2172. Thanks for helping with so many of my fics! Enjoy.**

Italy blinked, the world blurring before his eyes. He mumbled to himself as he rolled over, trying to capture the fleeting memory of the dream he was having. For a moment, he pictured a hazy image of someone but it was wiped away from his mind before he could grasp who it was.

He sighed and sat up, looking at the clock. "I slept in late again…Germany is going to be upset at me for not keeping to his schedule." His hand went to wipe the sleep from his eyes but instead he was met with wet tears. "Huh…? Why was I crying?" He frowned, feeling nervous because he didn't know why, as he stood and stretched.

After wiping his eyes, Italy got ready for the day. His mind kept wandering back to his dream, trying to decipher what he had been dreaming about. The silhouette he'd seen was still there but the identity of the person still remained a mystery.

"I can ask Germany about it," Italy decided as he left his room. "Maybe he knows something about weird dreams like that." He walked faster than usual, knowing that Germany may be waiting for him and making him wait longer would only worsen his irritation.

Italy suddenly stopped when something caught his eye. He slowed and turned back when he spotted the broom. It was out of place; most likely Germany had gotten distracted by something and didn't put it back into the broom closet.

His heart began beating faster as he reached for it. "This broom…It's so familiar…" He stopped his hand and drew back as the silhouette suddenly became clear. Fresh tears poured into his eyes and he quickly wiped them away.

"Of course," Italy whimpered, smiling despite his tears as a mixture of pleasant and painful memories bombarded him. "How could I have forgotten you? I've waited for so long that I just forgot of the promise we made to one another…"

His heart ached as recollections of his stay in Austria's house all those centuries ago came back at once. The pain of the memories dug into his chest so sharply that more than once Italy thought his heart was going to stop.

It took a minute for him to stop crying and to be sure that he looked presentable. When he was sure he wouldn't start crying again, Italy continued into Germany's office. He froze at the doorway.

Germany was at his desk, hunched over an assortment of papers and maps, mumbling about plans for invasions and upcoming battles. His usual slicked back blond hair now stuck out in places and there were bags under his eyes as though he didn't sleep that night.

"Morning," Germany yawned as he rubbed his eyes. "Or should I say afternoon? You've slept in again."

Italy nodded, still not moving. The sudden familiarity of Germany's appearance hit him hard. He wanted to reach out and touch his soft blond hair or stare into those piercing blue eyes to check if they were real or just some trick his mind had played on him. "Sorry. I guess I was tired."

"Aren't we all?" Germany made no further acknowledgements, even when Italy moved closer to his desk. His notes were messy and undecipherable to anyone other than him.

"Do you know what we do in Italy to show that we like one another?" Italy asked suddenly.

Germany didn't look up from his work as he scribbled down more possible war strategies. "I don't," he answered distracted as he chewed on the end of his pencil.

Italy's smile softened. He leaned down and allowed his lips to brush against Germany's cheek. The blond looked up with wide, surprised eyes at his friend's gesture. "What was that?" he demanded.

"We kiss!" Italy explained with a cheerful grin. It soon faded to contain a soft, reminiscent tone that was uncharacteristic for him. He sat against the edge of the desk as Germany continued to stare, bewildered.

"Are you feeling alright, Italy?" Germany questioned softly as he pushed away from the desk. "You seem a little depressed today."

He laughed, the sound sharp and short lived. "Oh not at all! I have simply remembered something from when I was a young child. Or rather…someone." Italy's gaze wandered toward the window. Gentle wind was blowing through the leaves. "Someone I'm still waiting for but…I don't think he's ever coming back."

Germany frowned and crossed his arms. "Who is this person?" Italy had never talked about his childhood before. The blond had yet to even learn if he had relatives outside of Grandfather Rome.

"Oh, no one you've heard of." He smile quickly disappeared and his eyes became strangely void of joy. "I haven't heard anything about him in centuries."

Italy's air was quickly turning into something that Germany did not enjoy. He had grown accustomed to his friend's cheerful, naïve air. He did not seem to be the kind of country to hold turmoil of the past. "What was he like?"

"He was…shy. He didn't know how to speak to me. But he was a lot like you! He did everything for a reason. He didn't do things on a whim because it sounded good. Not like me. He reached for goals that he couldn't possibly get to. He was always being stupid in that way." Italy lowered his head, not wanting Germany to see the tears welling up in his eyes. "A real idiot."

Germany watched his friend with a complete loss for words. Italy…he was someone who Germany often thought of as a idiot, had even told him that he felt that way, but hearing the word being used by his friend in such a painful context made him want to take back every instance he'd said it.

He stood and leaned over to his friend, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. Italy looked up suddenly at the gesture, forgetting that he was trying to hide away his tears.

"Come, friend," Germany murmured with a reassuring smile. He took Italy's hand and began leading him out of the office. "Let's go get some pasta."

"But y-you hate pasta," Italy protested, dragging his feet along the floor as he stumbled after him.

"No." The blond looked over his shoulder and locked eyes with Italy. "I like pasta."

Italy stared back at Germany for a moment before his lips widened into their usual place. He no longer felt like he was waiting.


End file.
